Enigma
by Alexblack1991
Summary: Alex Black moves to La Push to live with Jacob and her Uncle Billy. A life of struggle, passion and love awaits her. But her questions go unanswered. Why was she ripped away from the supernatural world at birth? Why has a certain wolf captivated her and made her lose her senses? And how can she survive as more than just a were-wolf? EmbryXOC


ENIGMA

Right from the start, I've always been different. The one no-one really understands and so doesn't take the time to. Even before fate revealed to me that I was a were-wolf, I knew that I wasn't supposed to end up with a normal, mediocre life like everyone else. I guess I've always been lonely. Oh well. I prefer it that way. It's harder to care about people and then have to lose them. When my mom died as a result of a drug overdose, I felt ripped apart. My father was taken with her. Good riddance. I hated that man with every fibre of my being. It wasn't even because he abused me. _He _was the one who got my mom to take drugs with him. I'd come home to the smell of cocaine after school. At one point, there would be several needles scattered along the window ledge in the bathroom. They said they were 'trying to be discreet for my sake'. My parents soon switched back to smoking instead. And then there was the drink. That was only my dad though.

With my mom gone, I genuinely had no idea what I would do. At the funeral, as their coffins were laid side-by-side in the grave and the priest's droning voice read out meaningless prayers, I couldn't cry. Not in front of all those people. There were murmurs afterwards concerning my abnormal lack of emotion.  
"There's something not right with that girl," Grandpa Louis muttered to Aunt Maggie.  
"I know, I've noticed it for a while now," she replied. "Teenage drama, I suppose."

I scoffed to myself. They had absolutely no clue. Not about the drugs, the way my dad treated us, the wolf thing, none of it. It angered me that they were judging when they understood nothing about me. However, I kept my irritation hidden and acted like a good little hostess, serving canapés to family members I'd never even met in my life, who I swear had no idea who I was. I poured drinks without thinking about what was actually happening. I guess I didn't really come to grips with the fact that my parents were gone. That was it. Never coming back.

I answered endless, repetitive questions that these strangers kept asking. 'Yes, I was going to miss them awfully' and 'Yes, I had a plan of how I was going to look after myself'. When the question of what was I going to do now crept up, I was tempted to be completely honest and tell them that I had no frickin' clue but decided to spin them a few fairy stories instead. Just for fun, I guess. Theories ranged from me quitting school to go join a university in LA where I would study to become a surgeon to me going to live with some long-lost relative in Chicago. I even lied that I was going to move to New York to pursue my dream of becoming a recording artist. The hilarious part was that they drank it all in.

When everyone had left, and I'd finished settling the stuff with the caterer, I got in my truck and drove home in silence, leaving my parents in the graveyard. I tried to pretend that I _was _going to be ok, but part of me was still indignant that I had absolutely no clue what I was going to do. As soon as I got home, everything seemed out of place. I'd grown up with a chaotic, unpredictable childhood but at least the bad luck I seemed to just attract was consistent. With my parents gone, and my father's shouting silenced for good, the house was eerily quiet. Ghostlike, almost. I wasn't scared, so much as restless. Something inside me seemed to urge me to leave this place, but it was the fear that rooted me in Wyoming for a further 3 months. The fear of the unknown. I'd moved all over this state but had no idea where I would go after this.

But one decision would change my life.

. . . .

2 or 3 months passed by after my parents' funeral. I went to school a couple of times. I've always been the mysterious girl, the freak, the enigma. But everyone knew about my lethal temper. I get it off my dad but I guess I don't care.

People looked at me like I was an alien or something. And then the pity started. I hated getting sympathy from anyone, but adults were the worst. They spoke to me like I had suddenly dropped 10 years and was a 6 year old again. In biology, normally one of my favourite subjects, we started a new topic about drugs and the effect they can have on us. No-one knew about my parents but I still burned. The teacher started saying people who took drugs were lunatics and morons and drugs led to nothing but death. I grabbed my satchel, left my stupid science book in my place and was out of the room before anyone could say anything.

I stormed down the endless corridors, tears threatening to blind me. I blinked them back furiously and shifted my bag more comfortably on my shoulder before folding my arms back again. My long, black hair wafted behind me like a veil, I was walking that quickly. I pushed both doors open and walked swiftly out of reception.

"Alexandria Black, where do you think you're going?!" the receptionist, Mrs Peters, cried after me, standing up behind her desk. I completely blanked her and kept my attention focussed on getting to my truck. Outside, Mr Platte, some gym teacher or something, did a double take when he watched me stalk out of the building.

"Alexandria, get back to class this instant!" he said. I couldn't help but scoff inwardly. Everyone called me Alex. I hated my whole name. It took ten minutes to say it anyway! I tried to march straight past him, as I had done to Mrs Peters but he took hold of my arm.

"Right that's it," he declared, hanging on to me, though I struggled fiercely, sternly reminding myself not to phase. "You're going to the principal's office for defiance!"

"If you don't let go of me, you'll be going to jail for child-molesting!" I yelled, pulling away.

"How dare you?!" he yelled in my face. I freed myself and began to walk away. He grabbed hold of my arm again and by this time, I was living up to my fiery temper. I whirled round and punched him straight in the face, blood erupting from it immediately. He swore in pain and clasped his nose. I marched off, got in my truck and sped away, remembering to give Mr Platte's Prius a small clip on the way out of the parking lot.

I've never been back to school. I don't mind. I actually prefer it. I've never fitted in exactly. Like I said I've always been different, socially awkward in general. Hey, I don't like people much! They tend to get on my nerves. Especially girls. They were so caught up in their own silly little lives that it actually made me mad and kinda jealous.

All they had to worry about was what shoes they were gonna pick out for the dance and whether or not they'd get good grades in math and if that super cute guy in Chemistry was gonna ask them out. I've never been a 'girly-girl'. At all. So I've literally never worried about what I wear. And there was no question of me getting good grades in any subject. I just didn't really care about school.

And, if I'm being completely honest with myself, I'd never really been interested in guys, not in that way. I just didn't get the whole concept of love. That lovey-dovey, can't go two minutes without texting him, I just didn't understand it. I've only ever had two boyfriends; one of them cheated on me and the other abused me. It's ok, though, I kicked both their asses. Teach other guys to stay away from me. I liked it that way.

I got home from school that day to be met with a whole load of mail. I grabbed the fistful of envelopes and unlocked the front door. One was handwritten and caught my attention. I put the other envelopes and my truck keys on the table, dropped my satchel on the floor and headed into the kitchen. I perched on the counter with a can of diet coke, contemplating over the seemingly alien address. Eventually I gave up and slid my finger beneath the seal, breaking it and pulling out the letter.

"Dear, Alexandria,

You probably have no idea who I am. I'm your Uncle Billy, your father's brother. I live in Washington with my son Jacob on the Quileute reservation at La Push. I only recently heard about your parents' death and I honestly am very sorry for your loss. I understand that you've grown up with no clue about who I am, but I send my love to you anyway. Also, the main reason I am writing to you is to ask what you are going to do now. Have you got anyone to look after you? How old are you exactly? You must be about Jacob's age but even so, I fear you are too young to live alone with no way of sustaining yourself. I am very worried about you and that is why I ask you to write back to me when you receive this. I know that we haven't been in touch but I would very much like to get to know you and I would also like to be assured of whether or not you are all right. My address is written below. I look forward to hopefully hearing from you soon.

With love,

Billy Black"

I did have some recollection of mom maybe mentioning something about dad having a brother but nothing more in-depth than a passing comment. But, hey, I had no-one else, so I decided to write back. I got out some paper and wrote in my swirling, italic handwriting:

"Dear, Uncle Billy,

I've got to say that I was surprised to hear from you. My father never told me he had a brother, or that I had an uncle, but then again he was secretive about a lot of things. Thanks for the condolences. Everyone's been very sympathetic. To answer your question 'have I got anyone to look after me?' I have to be truthful and say no. I'm an only child and I haven't got any relatives, none that are willing to even talk to me anyway. But please don't worry about me. I have a part-time job and I'm going to quit school and go full-time at the garage where I work. I'm also going to move to a smaller apartment so I can keep up with the bills better. I might actually move back to Cheyenne but I'm still undecided about that. But I'm sure I'll get by. I guess I'm used to looking after myself by now. There's genuinely no need to be concerned about me. I hope that we can stay in touch and hopefully meet one day. I'd love to get to know you and Jacob.

With love,

Alex

I posted my letter, not actually realising what I'd done. Oh well. If I hadn't have replied, then I would have never got the life I did. I would have never left Wyoming. I would have been condemned to a boring life that I didn't want.

I got a letter back from Uncle Billy a couple of weeks later and this time I found myself opening it more excitedly, eager to see what my uncle was saying. I hadn't known him my entire life so it felt good to be talking to him. But this letter said something that made my breath tremble. In a good way. It was a complete and utter relief.

Dear, Alex,

Despite your reassurance, I'm still not entirely comfortable with knowing that you are living by yourself at such a young age, especially after such a traumatic event. I understand that I am practically a stranger to you, and I will also understand if you refuse my offer. But I would like for you to move to La Push to live with Jacob and I. I know that this is a lot to take in, and I don't want to ruin your plans because I'm sure they are completely plausible. But it would give me peace of mind knowing that you were safe with someone to look after you. It will be quite a trek for you, but Jacob and I will meet you at the airport if you would prefer to fly in. As soon as I get your reply, I will book a ticket for you, but that is only if you truly wish to come. I will not force you into anything, especially since we don't really know each other well, but I really would be thrilled if you came to live with us. I assume you know about the Quileute tribe and its secrets? I'm sure you would fit in well here and, as you said, both Jacob and I would like to get to know you. It's something to seriously think about. You are family, and I feel that you would be safer and happier living with us, no bills or finances to worry about and you can live a more normal childhood. A change of scene may help you given recent events. But, as I said, I won't force you into anything. It's your decision. But we would be delighted if you agreed.

With love,

Uncle Billy

I had to sit down and seriously consider what it said. Almost every part of me was thinking 'Yes! Finally, a ticket out of here!' But another, more sensible part of me reminded me that I'd lived 16 years without speaking to this man. So how could I just drop everything and go live with him? My star sign is Sagittarius but I swear I'm a Gemini; as I sat and thought about my uncle's invitation, two voices argued it out in my head.

'How can I just leave everything?'

'Seriously, what have you got to leave?'

'My parents' graves are here.'

'What difference does that make? Do you seriously think your mom would have wanted you to stay here, when you can't look after yourself and even if you can, then your life will be nothing but a struggle?'

'My life's always been a struggle but, hey, here I am.'

'What was mom's dying wish?'

'To take care of myself.'

'And…?'

'To do what would make me happiest and not worry about her and dad.'

'Exactly; there's nothing left for you here.'

'I know but how could I just turn up? I haven't known the man my entire life and I'm supposed to just go and live with him? I know that if I don't I'll have to live a completely boring life-'

'You have a passion for living. For once in your life, would you please just be selfish? You know you want to leave this place, and who knows what's waiting for you in Washington? Uncle Billy didn't write to you for no reason. He wants you to go and you should. '

'Yeah, but-'

'No buts. We're leaving.'

And with that, I wrote back to my uncle… accepting his offer. I began packing the next day.

. . . .

4


End file.
